One Hundred Fifty Years
by Hobbity321
Summary: "Let me be the first to congratulate you boys!" The headmistress said, beaming at them. "Why, I'm sure this is the first male pregnancy I've heard of in-" "Over a century," Scorpius muttered. "We know. We've heard." "Exactly!" She was undeterred by his gloomy expression. "And between a Potter and a Malfoy! Why, I never-!" "Imagined," Albus repeated. "We know. We've heard."
1. Introductions

Author's Note:

So. I don't think there are enough Scopius/Albus stories out there, do you? :)  
Inspired by A Magical Bond by C. Queen.

Warnings: Slash, mpreg, odd pairings, OCs. Don't like, don't read. No flames please!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything!

Review, rate, save to your favs!

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**Beginning**

When Scorpius Malfoy turned eleven years old, his mother gave him hugs and kisses, clothes in Slytherin colors, a larger room in the manor, and a ton of presents that he still had yet to sort out.

His father gave him school books, a new potions kit, and words.

"Every Slytherin is devious and selfish, so you can only depend on yourself."

"You can make friends, sure, but make sure that they know who is better. Malfoys have always been on top, and I expect nothing less from you."

"I will not punish you if you get up to mischief. I _will_, however, punish you if you get caught."

"People will try to treat you badly because of things from the past. You must immediately show them that they can not."

"Watch the Quidditch team. Learn the plays and techniques and prepare yourself so you can go on next year."

"Your marks are important right from the start, son, so do not slack."

And outside the train, with gray steam billowing and parents rushing around and children squealing excitedly, Scorpius slowly took these words to heart. He saw the looks, the mutterings, watched his mother stare back at some until they looked away.

They loaded his bags onto the train. Scorpius had a new owl, a small yet still regal-looking gray that he'd named Hypherion. The bird nipped at his fingers and he smiled, despite the butterflies in his stomach and the feeling that he was going to be sick.

His father did not hug him goodbye; it was not becoming of a Malfoy to show affection in public. He had, however, sat in the rocking chair by Scorpius's bed and read him his potions book until he fell asleep the previous night. So it was all right.

Scorpius's mother, Astoria, was only a Malfoy through marriage, and therefore had no qualms about gathering the boy into a hug. She smelled like rose and soft lemon, and her silver designer robes were soft against his skin. Scorpius breathed in against her and refused to cry.

"We'll write everyday," she promised when she pulled back. Her blue-gray eyes were soft, brunette curls falling in elegant tumbles down her back. "Won't we, Draco, darling?"

Scorpius's father looked away from something. Scorpius tried to see, but the mass of bodies were too much. All he could catch a glimpse of was messy black hair. "What? Oh. Astoria, don't you think that's a bit too much-?"

"We'll send sweets, too." Astoria said firmly, ignoring her husband.

Scorpius's father didn't argue. He never could when it came to her.

The train horn sounded twice in warning.

"Oh, _dear_," Astoria sighed. Pulled Scorpius in for another smothering hug.

"I've got to go now, mum." The words were muffled against the woman's cloak.

She huffed. He felt it against his cheek. "I know. I just-" Sighed again. Scorpius prayed that she wouldn't start peppering his face with kisses, like she did every time she felt he was doing something grown up. He could scarcely get onto his broomstick at home without lip stick marks.

_Merlin,_ that would be embarrassing.

"Goodbye mother, father." He pulled back with a bit of effort, as his mother's grip was extremely strong.

His father laid a hand on his shoulder and looked at him seriously for a moment. "Remember what I've told you, Scorpius." And then he flashed a rare smile. "Make us proud."

And the next thing he knew, he was on the train, wandering around.

He hadn't had trouble finding a compartment to sit in-the one with Darius Zabini, Faris Nott, Ella Flint, and Veronica Goyle: children that he'd met at social gatherings. That knew where they stood with him. He'd gotten the window seat without much fuss and talked with them for a bit, but all they could really dicuss was how Slytherin was best and how their house was the most powerful, and so on and so forth.

Scorpius knew his father would approve of his sitting with them. It was, after all, one of the bits of advice that he'd given his son.

But Ella liked to grip onto his arm, fingernails digging into his skin, and whisper things about how they were going to marry when he grew up, how many children they would have, how that big manor would be all theirs. It made his skin crawl.

And Darius was just plain nasty. He was handsome, like his father, and good to stand with. But he was the type of boy who _Incendo'_d spiders and hexed girls for no other reason than a good laugh.

Faris was all right, he supposed. He wore glasses and liked to read rather than gossip nastily like the rest. But he was nervous, always stuttering and fumbling. Scorpius hoped, for the boy's sake, that he was sorted into Ravenclaw. He'd be eaten alive in Slytherin. His parents didn't seem the sort that would mind too much.

Veronica was surprisingly pretty, for her parentage. She had fine bones and a heart shaped face and blonde silky hair, and for a few moments, we he'd first met her, Scorpius thought, "If I have to marry, I'd rather her than Ella."

And then she'd opened her mouth.

She wanted pearls. She wanted jewels. She wanted the high life with no 'snot nosed, messy brats' as she called children. Oh? That was your book that I just threw into the fire for no apparent reason, Faris? Do I look like I honestly care? Did you know that you're absolutely hideous when you cry? Would you like a Crucio to give you a real reason to cry? My daddy taught me how, you know.

Darius got all moony around her. Normally that'd mean he picked on her even worse than he did other girls, but Veronica scared him too much.

As they began dissecting their Headmaster, an older, jolly woman who Scorpius personally liked, he stood.

"I'm going to the loo," he said in the haughtiest voice he could muster. He gave them all a superior look-one that he knew was extremely intimidating, as he'd practiced it in the mirror-and left the compartment.

As soon as the door clicked shut, a pressure came off of his chest. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply for a moment, then opened them.

Albus Potter was standing at the end of the empty hallway, watching Scorpius.

The blond boy recognized him, of course. The Potter family was in the papers at least once a week. Once, James Potter lost a tooth while getting robes.

That was in the paper, too.

It disgusted Scorpius's father.

"Bunch of attention seeking mongrels," he'd sneered, crumpling the moving picture of the boy's amazement. "When you go to school, Scorpius, I expect you to stay away from the Potters and the Weasleys. Nothing but bad blood, heroes and gingers with way too many brats..."

Scorpius was eight at the time, and confused. Mr. Potter was supposed to have defeated the Dark Lord. So how was he and his family bad...?

So he asked his mum. And she rolled her eyes and told him, "Ignore your father, Scorpy. He's just a bit sore from his school years, that's all. A drama queen, really."

As if that cleared up everything.

His father said to stay away, but his mother said to ignore him. Which one to obey? Scorpius didn't know, especially as the All Potters Are Evil, Nasty Things That Should Not Be Discussed rant picked up speed when Scorpius turned eleven. He'd once sat for one hour and twenty two minutes while his father went into great detail about the flaws of Harry Potter.

His hair, abysmal clothing, and irritating way of always doing every bloody thing right were targeted, along with his children's sappy names and wife's hair color.

He really hated the Potters. But Scorpius couldn't. Not when he'd never met one.

So they stood, Albus and Scorpius, watching each other. Scorpius took in the dark, inky hair-which was as unfortunate as his father had ranted about-, the bright green eyes, the sloppy stance. The mysterious Potter was a bit taller than Scorpius, even with his shoulders hunched a bit. He still hadn't changed into his robes, so he was wearing a pair of Muggle jeans and a red t-shirt. Clearly hoping for Griffyndor.

All together, the boy wasn't very impressive. Well, except for those eyes. They were kind of distracting.

"Hi," Potter finally said. His voice was like his stance-unsure.

"Hello," Scorpius said slowly. "Can I help you?"

"Well, uh." He shifted on his feet. Tucked his hands into his pockets. His head, which was drooping so low that it threatened to brush his shoes, suddenly stood alert. "Yeah! Actually, you can!"

Scorpius blinked. He hadn't actually been offering. "Oh."

"See, your dad was, like, The Slytherin, right?" He asked eagerly. "And my dad says that all Malfoys are Slytherins too, which means you'll be sorted there."

Scorpius blinked again. "I guess..."

"Exactly. So you can tell me, am I-" Potter lowered his voice, looked from side to side, then walked quickly down the carriage hallway to grab Scorpius's wrist. The blond haired boy was so surprised that he could barely react as he was dragged into an empty compartment.

Now that they were closer, Scorpius noticed smaller things. Like how Al's eyelashes were so long and thick that Ella'd be sick with envy. And just how unruly that famous Potter hair was. Scorpius wanted to take a large comb and have at it.

He looked as much like his father as Scorpius did his.

Once the compartment was shut and locked and the privacy curtains were drawn, Albus turned to Scorpius, a bit out of breath.

His cheeks suddenly flushed. "Sorry. Had to make sure that no one could hear. Your name's Scorpius, right?"

Scorpius nodded. He wasn't sure that he could speak, he was so bewildered. How did he get himself into this situation again?

Oh, yes. The 'Can I help you.'

"Right. That's what my Uncle Ron said, but my Aunt Hermione says he isn't the smartest bloke in the world, so yeah." Albus sat down in a huff. Scorpius carefully did the same. "I'm Albus, by the way."

"Why are we in here?" Scorpius asked, finally regaining his voice.

"Oh. I wanted to see, you know, because my brother, James, he says that I'm going to be sorted into Slytherin, and there are _no_ Slytherins in our family, and I'm already weird enough because I don't like treacle tart and everyone in my family loves treacle tart and-" He took a deep breath- "Just. AmISlytherinmaterial?" The final words came out in a rush.

"Are you serious?" Scorpius laughed.

Albus looked like he'd been slapped. "Of course I'm serious! Do you think if wasn't I'd be asking?"

"Well, no." Scorpius said after a pause.

"Right. So just tell me, please. Am I?"

There was not a pause this time. "No."

Potter looked at him skeptically. "You're not just saying that?"

"No. You look just as Gryffindor-y as the rest of your family."

He sighed in relief, slumping suddenly. "Thanks.

They sat in silence for few more moments before Al stretched and stood. "Well, I've got to get back. My family will worry. I'll see you later, right?" Albus looked at Scorpius in askance. The latter slowly nodded-he still wasn't sure if this was a weird dream or not. If it was, he really had to stop eating chocolate frogs before bed.

"Bye, Scorpius." Albus smiled-and he was gone.

Hours later, in the silver-green bed of his dorms, Scorpius recalled that smile. How it made his cheeks dimple, his face become brighter and happier.

And he himself smiled into his pillow.


	2. Lovebug

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Thank you lovely reviewers and subscribers :) For those of you who have never read an mPreg fic, I've never written one :) So I'll try to make this as hilarious as possible. nevertheless, I am honored that you chose this fic as your first. And don't worry! The pregnancy should come soon. Just laying some groundwork for now :D

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Scorpius saw Albus-in corridors, in classrooms, in the Great Hall and as they left and got onto the train for the new school years.

But he couldn't bring himself to walk up to him, not with the entire Weasley-Potter clan with him, and Al made no move to do so himself. Teachers at Hogwarts had went to school with their fathers, and because the boys looked so much like them they kept them well away from each other. Professor Longbottom, who taught Herbology, had them on-literally-opposite sides of the greenhouse.

They were never partnered for projects, and when they bumped into each other they exchanged nods and went on their way.

Scorpius joined the Quidditch team as seeker in his second year, Albus in his third, when the Griffyndor team needed one.

They played. Albus caught the snitch.

The entire school waited for a fight. Surely now, as rivals, the two would do more than ignore each other? Teachers readied themselves to run out onto the field.

Scorpius cursed viciously enough to make a pirate blush, nearly killed himself diving onto the field and stomped off. Albus shot a grin in his direction and nothing else. The next Gryffindor-Slytherin game, Scorpius caught the snitch, winning the Quidditch Cup.

There was nothing else.

Oh sure, members of the houses fought. But Scorpius stayed aloof and Al unbothered, much to the outrage and dismay of their houses. James Potter, especially, could not understand it.

"Why should we fight? It's just a game, James." Albus said clearly enough for the Great Hall to hear. Then he clapped his brother on the shoulder and went back to his porridge.

Fourth year Scorpius discovered himself.

His eyes followed Trenton Wood and Nathan Thomas and Albus Potter, who'd gotten taller and muscles from Quiddtich. His own body was firm but he was slimmer and smaller than most of the guys in his house. To make up for it, of course, he had his words and his attitude and the fact that he was, as Albus called it, The Slytherin.

He didn't know how his father would react, so he kept it to experiments; quiet fumbles in closets and kisses.

And all the while, Albus Potter drew his attention more and more.

By fifth year Scorpius had what he called Al-Vision. Every bloody time the guy walked into the room, he seemed to look toward him. He knew about the brief sugar quill addiction and liked to joke around and knew most of the teachers outside of school. He didn't like his fame and tried to stay out of the limelight.

The first time he had a girlfriend, Scorpius nearly died.

Literally. Scorp was walking down the hallway, innocently eating a chocolate frog and rounded the corner…

To see Al and Ariana Boot snogging. In the middle of the hallway, where decent folk walked.

His heart gave a painful squeeze, and he felt like he couldn't breathe-

And then he realized that he actually wasn't breathing. He'd inhaled the entire head of the frog and it was in his throat, opening and closing its mouth.

At this point, of course, the couple realized that they weren't alone. Al correctly assessed the red face, teary eyes (possibly not all from the frog-and oh Merlin, how attractive) and throat clutching, and went into action with a quick, "Accio food piece!"

The bit of chocolate flew out of Scorpius's throat and hand and he dropped to the ground, breathing hard.

There was a hand on his shoulder and one under his arm, pulling him up to lean against the wall.

"…you alright?"

Scorpius blinked rapidly, coughed a bit and said in a hoarse voice, "Yeah."

What kind of Slytherin _was_ he? He should have at least dramatized it a bit, pretended that his lung had collapsed-he needed mouth to mouth to feel better-_something._

He blamed those thrice be damned eyes for bumbling him up. Should be totally illegal.

_"Merlin,"_ Al breathed, still holding him up and still way too bloody close for Scorpius to think properly, "That was a close one."

"See? Gryffindor hero." Scorpius mustered his best smile. The best he could do after having almost-died, of course.

Al blinked those still-long eyelashes and laughed a little. "I guess so. Should I carry you to the nurse?" He teased.

He could if he wanted to. But before Scorpius could say something stupid like, yes, please, and could you maybe bend down a bit more so I can reach those lips, Ariana spoke up.

"Oh my _Gods,_ Albus, you're a hero!"

And Scorpius crashed back to earth.

_Straight. Potter. Father would have an aneurysm._

He straightened himself, having caught his breath. "I should go. Thanks, for saving my life and everything."

And he left. And with a supreme force of will, did not look back.

Because he'd realized something, and he needed to go and get himself together before he did something as dreadful and un-Slytherin like as crying.

He was in love with Albus bloody Potter.

After what everyone in the school called "The Great Malfoy Rescue"-the Gryffindors snickeringly, the Slytherins mockingly (Scorpius had to hex a few fourth years that made the mistake of miming the incident in the corridor)- Scorpius resolved to stay away from Albus. His father had been right. Potters were trouble, and there was no chance that his little crush was going to go anywhere. It was better to just squash it now, marry Ella and live the rest of his life following the papers stalker-like, searching for his name. Maybe adopt a few kneazles and name them Asp, Asp Junior, and Alby.

Unfortunately, it soon came clear in sixth year that it was going to be absolutely impossible.

It was as if the teachers had decided, "Hey, they haven't fought, and Albus just saved Scorpius-let's pair them up for everything!"

Potions. Herbology. Transfigurations. Even Care of bloody Magical Creatures, where Al stepped in front of Scorpius to intercept Akala spit. (He'd called the animal, quote, "A stupid, poisonous beast" and it took offense, for some reason. Al had burns on his arms for days, until a salve could be owled. No one ever said that Malfoys were animal people.)

All of them just made Scorpius fall harder and harder. And all the while, Al went though girls like it was going out of style.

It was a conspiracy.

As his father would probably come to the school and pull him out of Hogwarts completely, humiliating him and ruining his love life, Scorpius didn't breathe a word to his parents. He loved his mother, but she couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors were no happier with the situation than he was.

"But Scorpy," Ella, who still had deigns on his money, whined. "I don't know why you must socialize with that _awful_ Potter every other week. Really, it's absolutely _dreadful_. You've become the poster boy for _house unity_, of all things. I can't have a boyfriend who hangs out with Gryffindors!"

Other Slytherins at dinner were nodding. Ella's claws, which had only grown longer and more neatly trimmed over the years, were going to leave marks in his skin.

Scorpius reminded himself that a gentleman does not hex women, even if they are little tarts. "Ella, darling, I don't know how many times I've told you _not to bloody call me that_. Please remove your hands from my person before I remove them for you."

Ella brought her hands away and stuck out her lips, the bottom one trembling. "But Scorpius..."

"Oh give it a rest, Ellie," Darius rolled his dark eyes, and for a moment, Scorpius thought that the boy was actually being helpful for once in his life. "Everyone knows Scorp practically worships these little meetings. Any sort of alone time with Alby boy is good time."

There were no rules against hexing irritating Zabinis who were too-bloody-close-to-the-truth. Scorpius pointed his wand and muttered a words.

Darius's face swelled up the size of a balloon, distorting his handsome features. His eyes became tiny pinpricks in a brown face and his nose was nearly the size of Scorpius's fist. He looked as if he'd taken a bludger to the face about twenty times.

His on and off girlfriend, Veronica, cackled.

Scorpius was lucky. This was an off week.

The Head of Slytherin, Scorpius's aunt Daphne, swooped down to the table while the entire Great Hall watched. Scorpius hid a smirk. Darius would think twice about opening his fat mouth next time...

"Is there a problem here," she asked, completely ignoring the puffy faced boy.

"No ma'am," Scorpius flashed a handsome smile, "Darius here was just the recipent of an unfortunate joke in his food, that's all."

"He ought to be punished for not looking out," Ella, who had her uses, piped up. "Honestly. This is the table of snakes, for Merlin's sake."

Professor Greengrass swept the table with mossy green eyes. Her long, auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head, and she was attractive, if not a bit stern. Scorpius had once watched Professor Longbottom nearly chew his tongue off saying hello to her.

It was not a bright moment for the Herbology professor. Scorpius'd nearly had to stuff his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and being detected.

"Go the infirmary," she said finally. "And for Merlin's sake, don't kill yourself on the way there. Can you even see?"

Zabini gurgled something, gave Scorpius an evil look (or something that was supposed to be it-it looked more constipated than evil) and stomped out, sniggers from the other tables following his back.

Aunt Daph waited for a moment. Then, so low that Scorpius could barely hear it, she murmured, "Ten points to Slytherin. Very nice execution of the Engorgio charm, Mr. Malfoy."

No one else his the house dared say anything else.

Later on, in the library, Al was smirking. "So. Zabini looked pretty worse for the wear when he left the Great Hall this evening."

Scorpius shrugged noncommitedly. "I don't know. There's some people that just...irritate the absolute shite out of me."

Al chuckled. "Remind me to never be one of those people. That was one hell of a hex."

"Thank you," Scorpius said primly. "I do try."

There was a moment of silence before they both quietly burst out laughing.

* * *

"It's _horrible_," Scorpius wailed to Faris a few months later, who was, in fact, sorted into Ravenclaw. (It turned out that the stutter was because of the fact that he was afraid of going to Slytherin. Merlin.) Now he was one of Scorpius's closest friends/therapist.

He was the only one who knew about Scorpius's secret.

"That you're in love him?" Faris asked, looking up from his text book.

They were in his dorm, alone with a strong Silencing charm and an Alarm spell for anyone who might approach the door. Scorpius was taking no chances. Ravenclaws were surprisingly vicious eavesdroppers and gossips, only second to Slytherins.

Well, with the exception of Faris. He was the first boy that Scorpius had kissed (Ravenclaws are naturally curious as well.) He thought it was interesting but not his thing, and Scorpius found he was okay with the idea. And things went back to normal.

"Yes! And Faris, I am trying to find something, _anything_ but there's nothing wrong with him! He holds the door open for girls, doesn't pass notes in class-I hate that-and I told you about the Akala spit, right? It was going right for my face. You know how much I love my face."

"Yes, yes." Faris sighed. "Have you considered just telling him?"

Scorpius whirled around, halting in his pacing. "What?"

"What can it hurt," Faris asked. "When you're this hung up on the guy? He's nice, yes? The least he can do is say no and it's the end of the year-it'll be summer, soon, so you can go and deal with your shame then."

Scorpius stared. "I though Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart?"

"I'm just saying." The dark haired boy shrugged. "By the way, your rants are starting to sound just as dramatic as your father's. There's something to think about, huh?"

Great. His therapist had gone mad. And he was starting to sound like his father.

He wanted something cream filled. Now.

Oh wait. He had to meet Albus for their "Study Buddy" appointment. (When he got his hands on the Muggleborn teacher who came up with that name, he was going to strangle them with his bare hands.) They were supposed to be studying for the end of the year tests, meeting in the Room of Requirement in...he cast a quick

Tempus...five minutes. He'd have to run from the Ravenclaw tower, so he'd be all sweaty.

He stifled a groan. All of those books. Even if he put a lightening charm on them, they'd still be cumbersome...

Merlin's wrinkly balls.

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	3. Creampuffs

Scorpius arrived at the Room of Requirement sweaty and panting-as predicted. He could have been a bit late, he supposed, but Al never had and Malfoys were always punctual.

He took a moment to gather himself, then walked through the door that only appeared to him. They'd agreed to make it blue and white, so that they'd know it wasn't occupied by anyone else. The boys met every Wednesday and other Friday. Today was a Wednesday. Tuesdays and Thursdays Scorpius had Quidditch, and Monday and and Fridays Al had his.

Smiling slightly, Scorpius opened the door.

The room was neutral territory-it wasn't the gaudish, Gryffindor red that made Scorpius's head hurt and it wasn't all green and silver. The set of squishy couches were black, and there was a large coffee table, where they did their work. A space in the middle of the room was for practical practice, and any refreshments they needed were provided by a house elf that Al had made friends with.

Maybe he could get his cream puffs then? Hm.

Al was sitting in the largest couch, shoes off and robe over one of the smaller armchairs. He was laying down and reading a textbook. His shirt matched his eyes and was stretched across his chest, and he was wearing a pair of comfortable sweatpants.

Al liked to wear Muggle clothes at every oppourtunity.

He looked up and smiled. "Hey, Scorpius."

"Hey." Scorpius echoed, walking over to the arm chair to drop his bag and fall into it. He kicked off his shoes as well, hung up his robe and tie and rolled up his sleeves a bit. It was always best to get comfortable when they were studying.

It was honestly the most relaxed that Scorpius was all week, during these sessions. He hated them and loved them at the same time: On one hand they were torture, because he was with Al and couldn't do anything. On the other hand...

He was with Al.

He didn't have to be cold to the Slytherins, put up Privacy and Protections spells. He didn't have to pretend to be cold and keep and appearances and make sure that no one found out his secrets. He could just...study. And stare at Al unobstructed, if he pleased.

By silent agreement, they didn't invite anyone else. And they never cancelled.

He sighed and dug out his Transfigurations homework, sticking to their pattern. They'd get any homework for the day out of the way, then start with practice. These sessions were actually helping with Scorpius's marks (which, of course, were only second to Rose Weasley's. He was still a bit sore about that.)

Ten inches on the Animagi Transformation. Scorpius only got to five before Al finally spoke again.

"Cava Root and three millimeters of ground griffin claw make...?" He trailed off expectantly.

Scorpius hid a smile. When he looked up, Albus was giving him puppy dog eyes. The boy was abysmal at Potions. Scorpius's father was a Potions master.

"Well," he said slowly. "I really should let you do it on your own."

"You're my Study Buddy." He said in a pleading voice.

"I'm supposed to help you study," Scorpius pointed out. "Not give you all of the answers to your Potions homework."

"Sccooorrrppppiiiuuusss."

"But," he continued, "I do have a severe craving for cream puffs."

Albus made a face. "I will not cater to your sweet addiction." He didn't like sweets, and thought that Scorpius had a problem. Scorpius maintained that he needed to keep his energy and he burned it all off anyway.

"Well then," Scorpius said, smirking, "I won't cater to your Potions needs."

Al scowled, but he was fighting a smile. "You're such a bloody Slytherin. Rissy!"

The house elf appeared with a 'Pop!' She wore a clean purple tea towel and had big, watery eyes and even bigger ears than normal house elves had. Albus had admitted that if his Aunt Hermione or cousin, Rose, knew about her they'd kill him in his sleep.

"Master Albus Potter called?" She asked in her squeaky voice. Scorpius secretly thought she was cute.

"Could you get Master Addict some cream puffs, please?"

Scorpius glowered. That was what the elf knew him by, thanks to Albus.

"Master Addict sir is in luck! Sheepy just made cream puffs! Rissy bring Master Addict sir cream puffs!"

She disappeared again, then reappeared about a minute later, this time with steaming, golden cream puffs on a platter. It was enough to feed about five people.

Scorpius's mouth watered.

"Thanks, Rissy," he dimly heard Albus say. But he was too entranced by the delicious mounds of joy being set onto his lap to hear anything else.

He took one and bit into it.

Absolutely heaven.

Sound and time were blocked out as he slowly made his way through half the platter.

When he slowly came out of his daze, Albus was looking at him strangely. Maybe because he'd looked like a complete and utter pig. Huh. Well, it couldn't be helped.

Still, he blushed a bit and surreptitiously tried to lick the side of his mouth.

Albus's eyes followed the movement.

Scorpius blinked. "Albus...?"

Was that-was that his voice? Coming out all breathy and small like that? What was wrong with him? In fact, what was wrong with the both of them?

Straight. Potter. Father would have an aneurysm.

Straight. Potter. Father would have an aneurysm.

Straight. Potter. Father would have an aneurysm.

He cleared his throat. Started again. "Al-"

He didn't get to finish.

Because Albus had crossed the room in four, quick strides, taken the plate of cream puffs from his arms, and thrown them over the edge of the couch. Scorpius opened his mouth to complain, but he was cut off by a hot, delicious mouth covering his own.

Scorpius's mouth dropped open in shock and Albus took the advantage, sweeping and claiming with rough yet tender strokes.

After a moment the blond regained his wits and brought his hands up to curl into that thick, unruly hair and tug. Albus made a low sound of approval that made Scorpius shiver.

The couch beneath them turned into a bed and they fell back a back. Albus pulled away for a moment, laughing huskily. "Nothing subtle about that."

Scorpius pulled the boy back to him.

He had to be dreaming. Had to. This couldn't be real. Prompted by something as small as cream puffs?

He was a bit pissed off, actually. All this time he'd been pining and he could have been doing this-this, which sent tingles down his spine and made him feel better than Quidditch, better than his father's pride, better than anything he'd ever imagined feeling.

It escalated to the point where even the thought of stopping hurt, even if this was just a whim of Al's, even if he was going to get his heart broken in the end.

And as he looked up into Al's eyes, he wished suddenly, firecely that there was something that would make Al love him as much as he loved the dark haired Gryffindor.

Scorpius woke up warm, content, and with someone wrapped around him.

Oh yes. Albus. He sighed happily and snuggled back into the warm, firm body. The arm around him tightened around him and he sighed again.

This was the life. No worries, no school, just...

Wait. Wait, wait-school.

His eyes flew open. He carefully, yet speedily extracted himself from the muscular arm, slid on Al's old sweatpants and looked around for his wand-

There, near the couch. He dove for it and quickly, quietly cast a Tempus.

10:35.

Shit. They were late for Herbology. About twenty minutes late, enough for people to notice that they were the only ones not there and for their imaginations to go wild-

For them to come to the correct conclusion-

Shit.

"Albus!" Scorpius frantically began searching for his clothes. He found his shirt with four of the buttons missing and swore again, looking over his shoulder. "Albus! Wake up!"

"Wha...?" A sleepy voice came.

"We're late for Potions." He slid out of bed, naked, and found his pants abut five feet away from the bed-no time for modesty. He slid them on, then realized that he didn't own anything red. Smacked his forehead and slid them back off, then began searching again.

"We're late for Potions." Al repeated, almost to himself. "We're late for-shit."

"Exactly," Scorpius agreed, having located his pants. He cast a quick ironing spell for his trousers and slid them on, then his shirt. He didn't know a spell for his buttons. Maybe if he required one...?

Beside him, he realized that Albus was searching for his pants. Realizing that he was still clutching them in his hand, he tossed them to the boy, blushing a bit as he registered some aches...

"Thanks," Al said hurriedly. He flashed a grin, suddenly. "Some morning after, eh?"

Scorpius laughed a bit himself. "I know." He didn't say that it was his first ever morning after. Albus didn't need to know that.

Albus closed his eyes for a minute, standing in nothing but his boxers. A few moments later, a pair of trousers, a dress shirt and school robes appeared on the couch.

"Do you think you could...?" Scorpius held up his ruined shirt.

Albus blushed deeply. Scorpius smirked. "Sure. Uh...sorry."

"What for?" He snickered.

The dark haired Gryffindor scowled at him for a moment before closing his eyes. A pressed shirt appeared on the couch and Scorpius picked it up, sliding it on. He did the buttons up quickly and slid on his tie, which was a little underneath the bed. "Perfect fit," he observed.

Albus held up his tie and tilted his head. "Please?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes and walked over to the taller boy, taking the tie and doing it up quickly. He couldn't help but be struck by the intamacy of the act, as if they were a couple...

He viciously shoved the thought away. Made sure that the knot was straight.

Albus leaned down, suddenly, and laughed a bit, a puff of breath against Scorpius's skin. He stifled a shiver and looked up. "What?"

"Nothing. Just." Albus smirked and ran his hand against a spot on Scorpius's neck. "I really shouldn't tell you. It's kind of a beauty."

"A wha...?" Realization hit and he glowered. "Monster. First my shirt, now this." He conjured a mirror and held it to his neck. Sure enough, there it was, the hickey dark red and stark against his pale skin. It looked almost like a claim.

"I know a spell." Albus kissed the mark, so swiftly that Scorpius could barely react, then pointed his wand at the spot. "Tollere notam."

The mark disappeared. Scorpius tilted the mirror this way and that, making sure that there were no more visible blemishes. He fixed his hair with an uttered spell, then slid on his shoes and socks and began putting his books away. "We didn't get any homework done."

Oh well. It couldn't be helped.

He slid on his bag, cast another Tempus-Potions was nearly over.

"If we run, we can make it to Herbology on time." He informed Albus, who was tugging on his shoes. He gathered his books up for him and stuffed them into his own bag, then handed it to him.

They made their way to the door, but before they could leave, Albus touched Scorpius on the shoulder.

"Hey, Scorpius, you know-" he faltered a bit- "that didn't mean anything, right? It was just, you know..."

"Yeah," Scorpius said, even though he just wanted to curl into a ball somewhere. "I know."

They stared at each other for a few moments, then Scorpius cleared his throat. "So. Herbology." He turned and opened the door.

And they walked out together, having no idea what was coming.


	4. The Bug

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing!

Thank you all SO MUCH for the lovely reviews!

They'd traveled to France over the summer to visit grandmother, Narcissa. She was a shrewd woman, with sharp blue eyes and wicked humor.

She hadn't quite been the same since her husband's death.

On one hand, Grandfather Lucius wasn't exactly what you'd call the nicest guy. He offered to teach Scorpius some Dark spells when he was five years old, and screamed at Astoria when she'd picked him up and walked away. When he died, Scorpius's father became less of a Father and more of a Dad.

He smiled more. The lines in his face stopped coming so frequently.

On the other hand, Scorpius loved his grandmother. She was a bit edged sometimes, but she was just that way. When Lucius died, a piece of her went away. She'd lost her soul mate, even if he was a bit of a bastard.

They were strolling in the garden together, looking over the roses and lilies and other flowers that his grandmother kept. It was wild, sprawling, yet somehow contained and absolutely gorgeous. It was mid-July.

Scorpius's mother was out shopping, and his father was taking care of business in Paris for the day.

The two discussed Hogwarts, who was dating who, Faris, and, of course, the Potters.

Scorpius knew that his grandmother was a bit famous for helping save the Wizarding World's savior. She'd lied to the Dark Lord's face and saved the family name from going completely down the toilet-something that Scorpius had always admired her for.

The woman had balls, and it cheered him up a bit just to be near her.

"How is young Albus doing?" She asked.

Scorpius froze just a bit, from where he was inspecting a deep red rose. "What?"

"Well, Harry tells me that the two of you have become quite close."

Mr. Potter, oddly enough, liked to visit his grandmother occasionally and simply talk. They'd bumped into each other twice over the summer, when Scorpius's father and mother were out. They exchanged greetings, then kept on their way. Scorpius didn't say anything to his father, knowing that he'd get bent out of shape.

He told his dad? Was Scorpius's first thought. He didn't know whether to be alarmed or happy. Or burst into sporadic tears, as he'd kept himself from doing all this time. He came close, sure, but the old chant of 'I will not cry, I will not cry' worked like a charm.

They'd run into Herbology sweaty and panting, but Professor Longbottom merely gave them a look and kept on with the lesson. Scorpius waited for gossip to reach his ears, but there was none.

Faris had looked at him like he was a ticking time bomb for some reason. Scorpius wasn't sure why. He'd acted perfectly normal for the rest of the school year.

...Maybe he was a bit short with his Slytherins. And some Ravenclaws. And, okay, those Gryffindors didn't deserve to have itchy boils for the rest of the week but they were in his way...

And then: What did he tell him, exactly?

Scorpius slowly turned. Swallowed. "Did he?"

"Yes," Narcissa said evenly, refined even in her old age. She smiled a bit, her mouth curving at the end. There was a wicked gleam in her eye. "Why, Scorpius dear. You are quite pale indeed. Is there something wrong?"

She was an evil, evil woman.

Scorpius straightened. "No, madame" he said, completely Slytherin. "I am completely fine. As far as I know, Albus is fine. We haven't spoken in a while, though."

Understatement of the century. Scorpius bore through the final tutoring days, took his tests and ducked and dove to avoid the dark haired boy. Lest he fall to his knees and wail out everything.

That would be totally disastrous.

Strangely enough, though, Albus kept on showing up everywhere he was. Even in the secret Slytherin passages, which was highly supicious.

"Why not?" She pressed. "Did anything happen?"

"Not that I would know of," he lied through his teeth. "Say, are these roses supposed to be wrought with thorns or did you do that to-"

"Scorpius Hypherion Malfoy," the woman said firmly, "you will tell me what you did with that boy and you will tell me now."

Scorpius opened his mouth-

And the croissants and jelly that he'd had for breakfast rose in his thoat. He turned quickly enough to avoid the roses and find a small patch of grass before it all came up.

And with it, tears. And the entire story.

His grandmother just watched him with those eyes, even as he went into unnecessary detail. And when he was done completely shaming himself, she handed him a hankerchief, took him into the house, laid him down and fixed him some tea. She stroked his hair and murmured soothing things to the seventeen year old.

"How did you know?" He mumbled before he fell asleep.

"A woman always knows," she answered.

It got a bit better, after that.

He packed for home about a week later, but before he got into the carriage he turned and did something that he hadn't done in years: he hugged his grandmother.

His father raised an eyebrow when he'd settled himself into his seat. He tilted his head in reply, then turned to his mother, who was looking a bit pouty, and hugged her too.

A few days later, they went to Diagon Alley to shop for new school supplies.

Scorpius personally loved the hustle and bustle of the place. It made him feel like a part of something normal: people in a hurry for school supplies didn't care if your last name was Malfoy when they stepped on your toes.

Draco hated it for specifically for that reason, among others. His nose was wrinkled to the point of permanently staying like that when they Floo'd in.

"I'll be at the apothecary," he said in clipped tones, smoothing his hair and his waistcoat. His hairline was receding somewhat, which made him a bit grumpy sometimes. Scorpius had inherited a mix of his mother's hair texture and his father's color, which made it a bit hard to predict what he was going to look like in twenty years.

Still. For now, he had no complaints.

"Alright," Scorpius dug into his bag. "Would you pick up a few things for me while you're there...?"

Draco looked at the list. Frowned a bit. "Ingredients for dizzyness and nausea potions?"

Scorpius winced and looked sideways at his mother. Sure enough, she was glowering at him as they walked, hands on her hips. "Scorpius Hypherion Malfoy..."

Draco looked at his son apologetically. "I've got to run. Ingredients don't wait for everyone, you know." And he faded into the crowd, leaving Scorpius to face the wrath of his mother alone.

Malfoy courage his arse...

"Why haven't you told me that you've been feeling off, dear?" Astoria pressed her hands to Scorpius's brow and cheek, ignoring people who cursed at them for standing still. "What if it's disease? You know we've been out of the country! You could have picked up some dreadful virus-"

"I'm fine, mother," Scorpius said, trying to placate her. "I'm sure it's nothing, just a bit of bad food."

Actually, he hadn't actually had to eat the food. One whiff of the roast beef that was served the night before and he'd had to excuse himself, quickly walking to the nearest bathroom to empty his stomach.

And that didn't really explain the shifting feeling that he got, like things were moving around in his body. He woke one night with stomach pains so bad that he could do nothing but bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut, holding back tears.

Plus, there was the fact that his stomach wasn't as firm as it once was. He could blame it on the mass amounts of sugar that he'd consumed over the summer holidays, but this was slightly more...rounded.

And worst of all: the moment he rose about five feet into the air on his broom, he had such a dizzy spell that he was forced to land and dry heave. He tried three more times before throwing the stupid thing.

He loved flying. He loved feeling as if he was big and everything around him was small, the thrill of knowing that one wrong turn and he could plummet and it could all end. He loved the wind, even though it was horrible to his hair, the smell of broomstick polish and night air, when he snuck out onto the pitch to clear his mind. The thought that he wasn't able to do that made him nearly as sick as the roast beef had.

So he tried everyday. With the same results.

But he wasn't going to tell his mother that. She'd have all sorts of Healers and Mediwitches looking at him, and he'd always hated them.

So he was pretty sure that he was dying.

He didn't want to, not really, but he'd rather go quietly than have his mother sob for months and his father get more stress lines.

He'd quietly begun writing out a will, and when he'd got to school he'd do some research. Maybe tell Faris, but not through an owl-his mother was much too nosy. Drop a few hints here and there.

It pissed him off a little, that he was going to die the year that he was made Head Boy. But, he supposed, it couldn't be helped. (Well, it could. But he really hated Mediwitches.)

He had to wonder: Would Albus be sad? Even cry? Or would he be like, oh, that poor, poor bloke. I shagged him once, you know, then broke his heart into little pieces without knowing it.

Someone suddenly slammed into Scorpius from behind. he stumbled forward, nearly knocking his body to the ground. Before he could fall, though, strong arms were hauling him up, pulling him against a firm chest.

It was as if someone had pushed a 'Relax' button on the back of Scorpius's neck. His limbs seemed to go lax, his mind softening, and he wanted nothing more than to turn and snuggle into the strong boy behind him.

He felt...safe.

Absolutely ridiculous, he thought dimly.

"Hugo!" Al barked, holding Scorpius for a moment then letting go. The totally relaxed feeling lessened a bit, though the dark haired Gryffindor remained close enough for Scorpius to feel fuzzy.

The sixteen year old looked stricken. "I'm sorry! Merlin, I'm so sorry, Malfoy, wasn't watching where I was going and all that-oh, hi Mrs. Malfoy!"

Astoria smiled. It was the sort of smile that you saw on scary Muggle movies, the one the bad guys gave just before they disemboweled you. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter."

"Mrs. Malfoy." Al sounded cheerful, but there was a line of stress underneath his words. Maybe Scorpius was the only who could hear it.

People were starting to stare. Malfoys and Potter-Weasleys standing so close together without bloodshed was practically unheard of.

"How are you boys today?" The smile became a bit less frosty. Albus had that effect on people. Maybe his mom felt the relaxing thing too?

"Fine. School shopping." Scorpius didn't look at him, but he could imagine his easy smile. "And you?"

"Oh, Scorpius is apparently feeling a bit under the weather, the poor dear, but we're both fine."

She couldn't keep anything to herself. Merlin.

Sure enough:

"Oh yeah? Are you okay, Scorpius?" There was a lot more concern than was proper. Honestly.

"Fine," Scorpius answered.

There was an awkward pause. The 'Fine' had come out a bit too quiet. Crap.

"Well, we'll just be going," Hugo said cheerfully. "Got to beat the crowds."

"Oh. Oh yes." Astoria smiled again and inclined her head. "Tell your parents that I said hello, yes?"

"Yes ma'am. Bye, Mrs. Malfoy. Scorpius."

And they left. Scorpius allowed himself to watch the back of Al's head disappear with his brown haired cousin's. They were talking about something. Maybe him.

A tension that Scorpius didn't know he had crept back into his limbs as they walked away. It made his bones feel heavier, though he felt a bit better than he had in the past few days. A bit happier.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Finally noticing his mum, who was looking at him oddly, he casually held out an arm for her to take. "Onward, then?"

"You look different," was the first thing that Veronica said to him. She looked at him critically. "Have you gained weight?"

"Have you stopped putting glamours on your pimples?" Scorpius retorted shortly, putting Hyphie (as they'd nicknamed him over the years) into the seat. He plopped himself down, not in the mood for airs, and put his feet up.

Darius was leaning against her shoulder, his eyes closed. The blonde haired girl was casually petting his hair, scratching occasionally. It'd be sweet if the pair weren't so bloody evil together.

"Someone's in a bad mood," he mumbled sleepily. He had circles underneath his eyes. "Quiet down, would you? Some of us are hung over."

Scorpius acquised, pulling out a book even though he really wanted to do nothing but shout. Or pace. Something.

This dying business was no good.

One moment he wanted the strangest things-hamburgers, when he didn't eat red meat, tamales, and strangely enough, peppers. Hot peppers, by themselves. Turkey hamburgers were no good, because he could taste the difference, though he wasn't sure how-he just knew he could.

He wanted pepper on everything. His father had given him the strangest look when he'd walked in on his son eating strawberry ice cream with little black dots on it.

"Trying something new," the blond hair boy had informed him casually, wiping bits of milk from the side of his mouth.

Draco stared. "Ah."

They silently agreed not to mention it to Astoria.

He was sick all of the time, too. He'd gotten used to hugging a toilet. Or a wastebasket. Or anything else within reach that could be used to hold his upchuck. So no, the potions had not worked.

And then there was the tumor.

It got bigger and bigger, to the point where it was slightly rounded now. Like he had a small potbelly. He'd worn his school robes to the train station to hide it. Baggy clothes around the house.

Sure, he was eating a lot more and excersising less, and he'd have to quit the Quidditch team (he wasn't quite sure how to break the news to his dad yet.)

He was really, really close to seeing a healer. Someone. Maybe just to confirm it, secretly. Maybe he could get Faris to look up some medical spells?

He adjusted himself and closed his eyes. Just a moment of peace...

Someone was shaking him. Why were they shaking him?

Scorpius irritably opened his eyes. "What," he asked, his voice thick with sleep, "do you want?"

"We're at school, Scorpius." Faris said with an odd look of concern. "Come on, we've got to get into the carriages. Are you okay?"

"Fine," Scorpius yawned widely and stretched. "Fine. Just a bit more sleepy than usual, that's all. Let's go."

And so it begins... XD


	5. Silver and Gold

"You okay, Scorpy?" Ella asked with something akin to real concern.

_I must really look like crap,_ Scorpius thought dimly, eyes attached to a huge piece of chicken that Veronica was currently shoving into her mouth. The smell drifted over to him, and before the nausea even hit he felt himself pale. If he opened his mouth to berate her for the nickname, the blond was positive he'd be sick.

The Slytherin stood, shrugging off Ella's hand, and left the Great Hall with grace. He could feel eyes on him, but he ignored all of that in favor of concentrating on beating his gag reflex into submisson.

As soon as he was out of sight of the other students, he ran to the nearest toilet.

He fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow, that first night.

He had Advanced Potions, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors, and History of Magic and Arithmetic with the Ravenclaws.

Putting off Quidditch practice was rather easy, as he was captain. He used the excuse that he wanted everyone to get settled so that they could be on their game. Everyone was suspicious-Scorpius usually worked them like dogs-but they took the reprieve without protest.

He resolved to work with their reserve seeker even harder, just in case he couldn't play.

He was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to.

Two weeks after school first began, he woke before everyone else and examined his stomach.

It was protruding now, smooth and pale. His belly button stuck out a bit. If it continued to grow bigger, than he'd have to start looking for a new solution to hide it. He'd started to show Faris the other day, but he was unsure.

What if it was something really bad?

If it was (which, obviously, it was) he'd rather ignore it and let nature take its course than stir up a bunch of panic.

He showered quickly, brushed his teeth and hair and put on slightly larger robes. It was colder this autumn, so he had a veriable excuse to wear them.

He went through Potions, first, which, thankfully, was just a lecture. The fumes from the Potions had been making him feel lightheaded.

Professor Greengrass shook him out of his doze and handed him a Pepper-Up potion. He downed it gratefully. "Thanks."

"Are you all right, Scorpius?" The woman sounded more like an aunt than a professor, breaking one of her own rules. Maybe he looked really bad.

"I'm fine, now." He was feeling a bit more energized, so it wasn't a lie-for once. It seemed that all he ever did was lie these days. "I've got to get to Herbology. Thanks again, though, Aunt Daphne. Please don't tell my mother."

She pursed her lips. "All right. Just so I won't worry her, though. Here," she said, "I'll write Neville a note." She scribbled something onto a sheet of paper and handed it to him. "Get some rest tonight."

He left alone, shrugging his bag higher onto his shoulder. The walk to Herbology was stretch, and most normally ran from Potions to get there. But he had an excuse on him, so he meandered.

The corridors were pretty much empty, with the exception of the occasional ghost and student. Scorpius turned, walking into the front of the school so that he could get to the doors. Before he could open them, though, he had the oddest feeling.

He turned.

Albus slowed down, panting. His hair was sticking up all over his head, as if he'd just gone flying, and he had his hands on his knees.

Scorpius's heart did a flip in his chest at the sight of him.

"Why...didn't...you stop?" Al panted, straightening up to walk toward Scorpius.

The blond haired Slytherin didn't know how to act. He never seemed to. Albus was acting like everything was okay, but everything just..._wasn't_. Not with him.

But he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy, so he lifted a shoulder with a small, fake smile. "I didn't hear you."

"I wish I could do that," Al said, closer now. "Go into my head and block out the world." The same calm that he'd felt in Diagon Alley all those months ago began seeping into Scorpius's bones, making him feel less exhausted than he was. Or more. He didn't know which.

"I didn't realize I was," Scorpius said truthfully.

They turned and began walking to Herbology in silent agreement. The day was crisp and cool, a perfect autumn morning. Leaves crunched under their feet as they walked.

"How are you doing?" Albus asked after a moment. "I know your mum said you weren't feeling well, and I noticed that you've been sleeping in class..."

He'd noticed that? Scorpius hid a smile. "I'm just tired, I think. I'm not sure."

"Have you been to St. Mungo's? Wait-you hate mediwitches. I'd forgotten."

The Slytherin froze. "How did you know that?" Scorpious demanded, looking at Albus. It had never come up in their conversations, and it was one of the things that he made an effort to hide about himself. The fact that he despised-and was slightly afraid of-anything having to do with medics and blood was a weakness, at least in his eyes.

Al smiled. "When you broke your wrist during Qudditch, fifth year. You were pale and shaky and obviously in pain, but you insisted that you were fine. I kind of made the connection later on, based on your earlier habits."

Scorpius knew that he was gaping like ill-bred country hick, but he couldn't help it.

It was disgusting. Absolutely _disgusting_. He tried to hate Albus for unknowingly trampling his heart, and then the Gryffindor pulled something like this. Knowing something that very few people knew-and even his _dorm mates_ didn't even notice-

The Malfoy didn't know whether to hex the guy or snog him.

The Gryffindor looked at him weirdly. He supposed that he looked slightly nasueous. "You alright?"

"Just fine. How was your summer?"

As Al gave him one last look then started in on a story about going to the pitch where his mum played to watch, Scorpius opened and closed his eyes. He listened to the soothing baritone of Albus's voice, felt the way he didn't feel sick, or tired, or anything that he'd been feeling for the past three months. Albus's shoulder brushed his, whether on accident or on purpose he didn't know.

Was there a such thing, to be actually lovesick? Maybe he'd been having Albus withdrawls?

An article came to him suddenly, about a young pureblood witch who'd gotten pregnant. The father, also a pureblood, had died six months into the pregnancy, and the witch had to be aged three months in order to deliver the baby early.

_It's an ingrained defense mechanism, prominent in purebloods, _the article had said_. A proper, magically gifted baby usually has the support of both parents during the duration of the pregnancy, in order to grow on the combined magical signatures. Single mothers will feel the strain of trying to provide only their magic to nurture the child-their body telling them that they need more. Common symptoms are often regular pregnancy woes amplified, hence the passing of the law by the Ministry of Magic in..._

Scorpius swayed. Gripped Albus's arm. Sure enough, he felt the pulse of something-no, not something, _magic_-coming from the other boy.

Albus stopped. Put a hand on Scorpius's shoulder to steady the smaller boy. "Scorpius? What's wrong?"

How hadn't he known? It was all there-he even had the bloody belly to prove it-it was staring him right in the face-but surely, surely it was impossible-

"I think I'm pregnant."

That was not supposed to come out. _That was not supposed to come out_. What the hell was wrong with him? _Merlin-_

Albus stared. _"What?"_

"I said I think I'm malevolent. My bad: Fruedian slip."

"No it wasn't," Al said, pointing an accsusing finger at the blond. "You said-_you said-"_

They were within sight of the greenhouse. If Scorpius could just make a run for it...

"We're going to be late for class," Scorpius said in a slightly high-pitched tone. "Might want to-"

"You have a pass," Al snapped. "Now explain-"

"No," Scorpius shook his head, hard. "It was ridiculous and wrong of me to-I was just-Just leave me the hell _alone_, okay?"

"No, not okay," Albus said stubbournly. "There's obviously something freaking you the hell out and I want to know what it is."

"Why?" Scorpius spat, suddenly furious. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Albus was supposed to make him hate him, not care for him, not-Merlin forbid he ever fund out-love him, damn it, and it was starting to become exhausting trying to even stick with that. "Why do you even _care-"_

"I just _do-"_

_"Fine!_ I was trying to take the time to think this through, maybe give you a bit more time to not worry, but since you want to know, Potter. I have cravings," he snarled realizing the truths for himself even as he spat them out. "Morning sickness. The other day I caught a whiff of chocolate and nearly threw up in Defense Against the Dark Arts. My magic's been totally out of whack, I nearly bit someone's head off the other day for sneezing, and I cannot stand even the sight of treacle tart."

Albus looked blank. And then comprehension started to dawn on him. Scorpius wasn't surprised that the Gryffindor had come to the right conclusion. All of that Weasley spawn...he probably hung around women who bred like it was going out of style.

"But your stomach-" he said weakly.

Scorpius dropped his bag, unbuttoned his robes and shirt and opened it.

His stomach stared back, intimidating and round. Round with child.

They both looked at it, then at each other, then back at it.

"If this is a big hoax-" Albus started angrily.

"You think I'd make something like this up?" Scorpius's voice was kind of shrill, but he had the right to be shrill. He was carrying a being in him!

He was carrying a being. And not just any being. A baby. When he was a guy. And not just any guy's baby: a Potter's.

His legs gave way. Luckily, Al came out of it enough to catch him and lower them both to the ground.

The little sparks of magic were not so calming amymore. Not when he was on the verge of blacking out.

"Talk to me," he said hoarsely. "Distract me."

"All right," Al said hurriedly, "I'm really sorry that you're in this situation and just a bit freaked out. I know this is the magical world but this is a bit much. I'm hoping you know who the father is and that he'll be supportive because it would totally suck if he wasn't-why are you staring at me like that?"

Scorpius snorted. It came out kind of hysterical sounding, but it was the only warning that Albus got before the blond boy started to laugh.

He laughed while Albus stared at him, and laughed as the taller boy helped him up to walk back to the school. And then the laughs became little breaths, so Al had to support his weight, and by the time they made it halfway up the stairs, Scorpius was full out sobbing.

Albus stopped, put his arms under the boy's knees and picked him up.

Scorpius sniffled, reaching into his pocket to pull out a hankerchief. "Thanks."

"I'm the dad, aren't I?" Albus asked calmly.

"Yeah. Congratulations and all that." He sighed shakily, reveling in the calming sensation that Albus unwittingly excluded. "My father's going to have a litter of kneazles."

"Huh." Al said.

Scorpius reluctantly asked to be set on the ground, and they continued walking to the infirmary.

"I really, really want to hurt you right now, you know." Scorpius said conversationally.

The dark haired boy stopped walking and turned. "Me?"

"Yes. _You_. Mr. I-get-hot-watching-people-eat-cream-puffs."

Albus drew himself up, looking mortally offended. "It takes two. You weren't exactly _complaining."_

"You never know," Scorpius snapped, feeling sad and mad and totally, completely and utterly scared because, how was he going to survive this? He wasn't built for this. Women were equipped to handle this kind of thing-he wasn't.

Albus must have seen this, because he opened his mouth to reply sharply and shut it. Closed his eyes. Touched his temple again, as he seemed to enjoy doing.

And then he opened his arms and drew Scorpius in for a huge hug, out in the open where anyone passing by (though everyone was still in class) could see. The portraits were already whispering to each other, but both boys ignored them. Everyone would find out in a couple of months anyway.

Or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe Al would want to keep it a secret. It didn't seem like it, though.

"Hey," Al said, rubbing his back. He smelled like grass and the sun, soft and soothing. "It's going to be all right."

They stood there, hugging each other, until Scorpius heaved a sigh and pulled back.

"Well," he said, "at least I'm not dying."

* * *

The school nurse, Layla Pomfrey, was as no nonsense as her aunt was. After the old woman retired (with a bit of strong persuasion), she took her place at Hogwarts, healing cuts and mending bones and going about it all with elegance and, well, no nonsenseness.

It took twenty minutes to convince her to cast the pregnancy spell on Scorpius, and when she did she cast it three more times, just to be sure.

Three small, gold lights hovered in front of Scorpius's stomach.

Albus looked confused. "What does that mean?"

The nurse told them.

Now, Scorpius was staring into space, absentmindedly rubbing Albus's back. The latter had his head between his knees and was breathing deeply. It was his turn to panic.

"So," she said briskly, "do either of you want to tell me what in Merlin's name you've done to yourselves?"

"They're going to call me 'Bottom Malfoy', Scorpius said in a dazed voice. I'll go down in history, not as the greatest Malfoy that there ever was, but the first pregnant guy to give birth to more than one child."

Albus wheezed.

"I've heard a lot about your fathers, Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy," the young nurse continued. She had blonde hair, pulled into a strict bun at the nape of her neck and chocolate brown eyes. "When I first took this job, I'll tell you what, my aunt, she said 'Layla, watch out for those Potters and those Malfoys. Nothing but trouble when they're together, them'. And look what we have here."

"My father's going to kill me. You. Both of us. We're going to die. Then I won't have to worry about how..." Scorpius stopped. Swallowed. Paled a bit further. "How they're going to bloody well get out."

"In all my years..." The woman shook her head. "Not one. Not two. Three little ones. Good luck to you both. Merlin help you."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Albus panted.

"I'll remember this for the rest of my life, I'll tell you that. Would you boys like to know the sexes?"

They both looked at her at that.

"You can do that?" Al asked. He had a greenish tinge to him, but he looked a bit interested. Scorpius was too, honestly.

"Yes. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked, would I?"

The boys looked at each other.

Scorpius cleared his throat. "Um. I think...we'll wait. Keep it a surprise for now." Knowing would make it too real. Albus looked a little relieved himself.

"Your choice," the woman said. "I'm going to run a few more diagnostic tests, okay? To make sure that the babies' health is all right. You'll have to call in a few experts-" Scorpius stifled a groan at this- "as there hasn't been a case like this in centuries, but I doubt that you'll not survive, Mr. Malfoy."

Scorpius looked at her dubiously. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now, hold very still, please." She cast a round of green, bubble gum pink and blue spells, along with a light purple one and a bright yellow one that was especially large. Some made Scorpius glow, one made his stomach turn unpleasantly, but there was nothing off. Madamoiselle Layla hummed each time and wrote something on a clipboard.

She explained, probably more for the boys' benefit than hers, that she was checking the babies' heart rate, Scorpius's overall health, his magical energy, and other things that Scorpius could hardly process.

"You need more sodium," the blonde informed him, "and plenty of rest. You won't have to quit school early, as magical pregnancies are less precarious than Muggle ones, but you will have to be very careful. Potions fumes are hazardous if inhaled-" At Scorpius's sharp inhalation, she gave him a soothing look- "but your womb has an odd amount of energy around it, protecting it. Maybe it's a result of the method that you used-how did this occur, again?"

"I have," Albus said slowly, "no idea. You were saying something about energy?"

"Oh, yes. Many babies feed off of magical energy from their parents in order to protect themselves from attack. The stronger the parents, the stronger than the shield is, and you, young man, ought to be commended for carrying them on your own for as long as you have."

"How can you tell?" Scorpius asked curiously. "That Albus and I were seperated?"

"There's a slight strain on you, one that's slowly mending even as you sit next to each other. You read an article, you say? About purebloods?"

Scorpius nodded. "It occured to me out of the blue."

"Yes, well that's how most things go, isn't it? Mr. Potter isn't a pureblood but he has both Potter blood, which was entirely pureblood until James Potter married Lily Evans, and the Weasleys. Mr. Potter, as the pregnancy advances the both of you will need to stay together. One child is hard enough, but three? Nearly unheard of. I really do want a more extensive explanation, on a later date."

The boys both blushed. "All right," Scorpius said, "on one condition: Could you please try to keep this quiet, just for today? I know you have to notify our parents, but I'd-" he swallowed. "We'd really, really like time to think this through."

The blonde woman studied him for a moment. "You really didn't know that you were pregnant, did you?"

"I thought I had a tumor," Scorpius said a bit sheepishly.

Albus let out a bark of laughter. "Naturally."

"Shut up." Scorpius smacked him. "I thought I was going to swell up somewhere and just not wake up one day."

"And you didn't say anything?" Albus asked in disbelief.

"I really don't like mediwitches." Scorpius tilted his chin up.

"Wow." Albus whistled.

They both remembered the nurse at the same time.

She was watching them consideringly.

Scorpius realized what he'd said earlier and blushed. "No offense to you of course, madamoiselle..."

"You'll be alright," the school nurse said out of the blue. "Trust me. I know things like this. Now, Scorpius, there are some potions that you'll need to take daily in order to help with the morning sickness."

Scorpius opened his mouth, but she anticipated his question and continued, "I'm sure you tried to brew a regular Nausea potion, but those don't work. They have to be special made with certain ingredients. Your aunt can brew those: I don't want you over a cauldron more than absolutely necessary.

"I won't notify your parents and the Headmaster until tomorrow-but only with the promise that you won't try and do something stupid, like try to brew something to terminate the pregnancy." She gave him a stern look.

Scorpius swallowed hard and saw Al stiffen in the corner of his eye. "No-I wouldn't, Madamoiselle Pomfrey."

Al relaxed. The woman flashed a rare smile.

"Good. You may as well call me Layla, as we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other over the next six months. Now, as I was saying before, even though you have an odd amount of protection around the little ones, you're going to need to take precautions. No practical work at all in Defense Against the Dark Arts unless you're in a controlled enviorment. In fact, if the class is doing practical work, you will either have to put up a strong shielding charm. You will want to take no chances.

"The Bubble Head charm will need to be used in Potions; I'm sure your aunt won't mind. No Quidditch, as I'm sure you've found out already. No lifting heavy items, and to keep yourself from being prone to fainting spells and the like you must eat. If the babies want it, then grab it. I'm sure you've tried to keep your cravings hidden?" At Scorpius's nod, she shook her head. "Impossible. It's best not to suppress it, because it'll just come back and haunt you later.

"Albus, you are the father and you have a responsibility. You are not only legally bound to help Scorpius, but I know your parents. And your grandparents. If I catch one whiff of you being irresponsible-"

"It won't happen," Albus said quickly. "I know. I..."

He was interrupted by the door to the infirmary opening.

"And we've got boils!" A familiar voice announced grandly, coming around the corner with a slightly girl underneath her arm. "You can just guess who caused this one..."

Lily Potter spotted Albus and Scorpius, sitting close together on the bed and halted, brown eyes taking in the situation. "...Again. Al, you okay? Did ya get into a fight or something?"

"I'm fine," Albus said.

"Bring her here." Madamoiselle ignored the girl's questions and helped get the puffy Ravenclaw to a bed.

Lily was momentarily distracted. "The potion soaked through her shoes, too," the red haired girl said almost happily. "So her feet swelled up and she couldn't walk properly. Professor Greengrass said that since I was laughing so hard, I could take her to the infirmary."

As she chattered to the nurse and helped cut the girl's shoes off, Scorpius looked on with horrified fascination.

"Why's she so cheerful?"

Madamoiselle Layla closed the curtain around the bed, so they were cut off from sight and sound.

"Lily? Potions accidents are the highlight of her day. We think she was dropped on her head at-" He faltered. "She's just a bit weird. Plus, I'm not sure but I think that girl stole her boyfriend. Something or the other."

Scorpius ignored the hiccup. "Well she has the stomach of a good Slytherin, I'll tell you that."

"Maybe she should have asked you at the beginning of first year, like I did." Albus smirked.

"Maybe. How did you phrase the question again? Oh, yes: 'AmISlytherinmaterial?'."

They laughed quietly with each other, remembering.

"What's so funny? I want in." Lily came up the bed, watching them with her hands on her hips. Her bright red hair was wild on her head, her brown eyes laughing yet alert.

Oh yes. Definetly Slytherin material.

"Private joke," Albus said before Scorpius could explain. "Lils, you know Scorpius Malfoy?"

"Who doesn't?" She motioned to Scorpius's hair. "Pleased to meet you." She stuck out a hand.

Scorpius shook, smiling despite everything. The rehead had a strong, firm grip; something came from living with two older brothers, Scorpius supposed. "The pleasure's all mine."

The girl looked at her brother. "I like him. Are you guys shagging or what?"

Scorpius gaped at her audacity, but Albus just laughed. "Yes. No. I don't know."

Yes? No? I don't know? What did _that_ mean?

"Figure it out. What're you guys in here for anyway?"

"I'll explain later." Albus tilted his head. "Shouldn't you be getting back to class?"

Lily stuck her tongue out and waggled her fingers. "Yeah yeah, I know a dismissal when I see one. Nice meeting you, Scorp."

And just as suddenly as she had appeared, the girl was gone.

Scorpius barely managed to close his jaw. "She knows about you?"

The dark haired boy looked at him. "That I like guys and girls? Well, yeah. My entire family does. We don't keep secrets from each other; not things as big as that anyway. They were fine with it, though Jamie and Hugo like to tease me all the bloody time. It's not excactly a secret here either, I just don't blow it around. Why? Your parents don't-" he cut off in relization. "You didn't tell them. And now there's this."

Scorpius nodded miserably. "So I have three things to tell my parents, when they come-because they'll surely come: I'm gay, I'm pregnant, and it's a Potter's baby."

"So basically," Albus said, "You're dead."

"That just about sums it up, yes."

Albus looked pensive for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I can be there with you, if you want. I mean, we're going to be stuck together for the next eighteen years or so. I'll have to make sure that you're not disabled or hideously disfigured."

"Yes, that would be a shame," Scorpius quipped dryly.

"I'm serious, actually." Albus turned to face Scorpius, his face set with determination. "If we're going to do this, I'm probably going to have to move into your room-you have your own Head Boy room, right?" At Scorpius's nod, he continued, "We're going to have to stay together, and it'd be easier to get you anything you need. We'll have to ward off idiots who'll try and give you trouble, because there are stupid people who will try to say something. We'll have to find a place after school to live, buy three times the amount of baby things, organize baby sitters-"

"Trust me," Scorpius said wearily, "My mother will go crazy with all of that. She couldn't have any more children after me and she's always hated it, so she'll see this as an oppurtunity to make up for it. Combine that with the fact that my father can never seem to say no, no matter how much money she spends, and we won't need to buy a single crib. So that's taken care of. Continue."

"Basically, this is all or nothing." Albus concluded after a pause. He looked like he'd wanted say something, but he'd puched it back. "So we're going to be in agreement right now: We have to be together on it. I won't lose my shit if you won't. Alright?" He stuck out a hand, like his sister had done earlier.

Scorpius looked at his expression for a moment, and some more pressure eased. Albus was serious. He wasn't going to run screaming.

"Alright," he shook Albus's hand. "So, do you want to know the sexes now?"

"Nah," Albus shrugged, "I love surprises."

Scorpius smiled. "So do I. Now: Let's have to figure out how to break this to our parents and Headmaster without any bloodshed."

* * *

Sorry about the long wait! I posted an extra-long chapter just because of it! Next up: Telling the parentals! HAHAHA! Review!


	6. The Parents

The meeting was held in the Headmaster's office.

Albus's parents Apparated outside the school gates and walked in, where they would meet him at the doors of the castle. Scorpius's were Flooing into the principal's office. They'd tell them everything together.

As they slowly came into view, Albus rocked back and forth on his heels. Fingered his robes, which Scorpius had made him press to the point where they edges could slice through sticks of butter. Nothing could be done for his hair, especially as he kept on running his fingers through it, but Scorpius seemed to like it anyway.

They'd met in an empty classroom before breakfast, exchanging last minute bits of advice and good lucks. There'd been an awkward moment at the end, when they weren't sure how to say goodbye. Should they kiss? Hug? Were they even a couple?

Albus had hugged Scorpius the day before. He couldn't help it, not when the boy looked all small and worried with tear marks on his face. Especially pregnant with his children.

Pregnant. The word echoed in Albus's head, over and over again.

He'd been slightly-maybe totally-jealous when he'd started talking about another father for Scorpius's condition. And then Scorpius had started to laugh at him, and he'd wondered. So he'd asked.

Pregnant.

The word filled Albus with an odd mixture of elation, dread, happiness, and complete and utter confusion.

He'd always wanted to be a father, have a full house. Weasley blood, he supposed, but anytime he saw his future he saw himelf hugging small bodies, be they adopted or his. It wasn't normal for a teenage boy, but since when was a Potter normal?

And now, he was going to have three at once.

What would they look like? Would they have his eyes, or the same, cloudy gray as Scorpius's? His unruly hair? Scorpius's shy smile? His tendency to ramble when he was nervous?

Were they girls, boys, or a little of both? The suspense was already killing him and it had only been a day.

What would they name them? Would it be a constellation, as Scorpius was, or after old heroes? What house would they be Sorted in? Would he be a good father? Would Scorpius? The blond boy was sort of reserved about the entire ordeal, but Albus had caught him touching his stomach and smiling, once, when he'd thought Al wasn't looking.

He wanted to touch. So bloody badly. But would he be overstepping boundaries?

And that brought back earlier questions: What were he and Scorpius? A couple? Two people stuck together by circumstances?

He wasn't sure what he wanted; but he did know that the thought of anyone else with Scorpius, helping raise his children fifteen years from now...

It made him want to punch a wall. Or maybe even hex everything in sight. The urge surprised Albus-he wasn't the type to resort to violence. That was Jamie.

And speaking of violence, how was he going to survive Scorpius's father?

"Ah, there's my worrier." His mother's smiling voice made him look up, shocked to hear them so close. How long had he been thinking?

Albus took in his parents; there were laugh lines around his father's eyes, and his hair was slightly peppered with gray, but he stood straight in his black Auror's robes and he had an arm around his mother's waist. Ginny was out of her own uniform, wearing pearl gray robes. Her bright hair was tied back into a bun and she wore little makeup.

Impulsively, Albus stepped forward and embraced them both in a hug.

"Alright," his father chuckled, "Who did you kill?" Nevertheless, his arms went around his wife and son.

"Just glad to see you," Al said honestly when he pulled back.

"What is all of this about, Al?" Ginny asked as they turned to walk into the school. "Amelia didn't say in her note."

"She couldn't," Al explained, waving to some friends. They waved back, looking at the trio curiously. It wasn't every day that Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, and he looked a bit dangerous in his auror robes. "She doesn't exactly know what's going on either."

Before either of his parents could comment on the secrecy, Lily skipped up and gave her parents a hug. "Mum, dad!" She looked at Al accusingly. "_He_ didn't say anything about you guys coming today. Is this about you and Scorp being in the infirmary yesterday, Al?"

"You got into a fight with Scorpius Malfoy?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"No," he bit out, scowling at his sister. "I don't know why everyone immediately comes to that conclusion."

"He looked a bit green," Lily said helpfully. "Like he'd gotten socked in the stomach or something. And Scorpius's eyes were a little pink."

"Thanks, Lily, that'll be enough. Mum, dad, we're going to be late..." They stopped outside the gargoyle. "Bratworst," Albus said the password. The gargoyle hopped to the side and they all, with the exception of Lily, climbed the steps.

"...finally killed the Potter boy?" The drawling tones of Draco Malfoy's voice sounded much too hopeful. Albus could practically _hear _his father's eye roll from behind him.

A sigh. "No, father, I didn't. They should be here at any moment-" Scorpius cut off and looked toward the door, just as Albus and his parents walked through.

Amelia Callahan, the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a large, dramatic woman who wore volumnous robes of deep purple and peacock feathers in her ears. She gestured wildly during speeches and wore her hair loose, and yet she kept the school running like a charm.

She even had a sparkle in her eye.

Her office was decorated with things from around the world: a giant conch shell from Africa here, a jar of sand from Egypt there. She had been a Hufflepuff during school, but her office was decorated in purples and blues. There were large, open windows on the walls that let light in. The office was spacious, magically enhanced.

Draco Malfoy sat in a deep leather seat next to his wife, who was in another chair. Scorpius was in the chair next to his mother. There was another chair to his left, where Albus would take a seat. Next to him would be his mother, then on the end, Harry. Together, the chairs formed a leather semi-circle in front of the Headmistress.

They'd both agreed that it was best to be as far away from the fathers as possible. If worse came to worse, they could take cover beneath that enormous desk of hers.

"Hello, Amelia," Albus's mother said amicably enough. "Scorpius, Draco, Astoria."

"It's nice to see you, Ginny," the dark haired woman smiled at her, while Mr. Malfoy merely inclined his head a bit.

"Malfoy," Harry said lowly.

"Potter," Draco practially spat.

Albus wondered, albeit a bit hysterically, what they would do when they learned that they'd soon have new members of the family with the pair of names.

He and Scorpius shared a look, and he could tell that the Slytherin was thinking the same thing.

"Mr. and Mrs Potter," the headmistress smiled calmly. "Always a pleasure. Please, sit."

"Well," Draco said as soon as Ginny had smoothed her robes. "I, for one, would like to know what in Merlin's name is going on. Scorpius wouldn't tell us a single thing."

The boy in question cleared his throat. "Madamoiselle Pomfrey was supposed to be here right now, but she can't because a bunch of third years started throwing random hexes and the infirmary's kind of packed. That's all right, though, because I have...something to tell you guys."

Astoria smiled nervously. "Well, I'm sure we'll be able to handle whatever it is, right Draco, dearest?"

Draco stared. "Is anyone dead?"

Scorpius blinked. Harry's parents cast Albus curious looks, but watched silently. "No."

"Gravely injured?"

"No. Not really. I thought I was but, um, never mind."

Draco paused. Shook his head. "Dark Arts?"

"No."

"Drugs? Is it drugs? I can handle drugs."

"It's not drugs," Scorpius said firmly.

"Is it a fire? Is there anything on fire?"

"Merlin..." Scorpius put his head in his hands. Harry's shoulders were shaking with laughter. Ginny was watching Scorpius with that knowing look on her face, while Astoria still looked a bit confused. "No, father."

Albus would be sympathetic, if he weren't trying to smother a laugh himself.

"Oh," Draco sank back, a relieved expression on his face. "Well, as long as it's not any of that-"

"I'm gay." Scorpius spat out.

The relieved expression froze on Draco's face. His mother made an odd, strangled sound.

"I've known since I was in fourth year," the boy soldiered on quickly, "And I'm sorry if you're disappointed, mother, father, but I can't change it and that's the way it's kind of going to be. Forever. Sorry."

There was a moment of shocked silence. Harry and Ginny looked like they quite weren't sure if they were in the right universe. Scorpius was squeezing Al's arm in between the two chairs, so hard that he felt like it was going to blacken and fall off at any moment.

Astoria had her mouth open. Draco's face was still frozen in that same, relieved expression. His eyes looked a bit glazed. Albus was tempted to wave a hand in front of his face, just to see if he'd notice.

Suddenly, Astoria leapt out of her chair. It clattered to the floor with a loud bang, making nearly everyone in the room jump, but she didn't seem to notice.

She whirled on her husband, her eyes wild and triumphant. She thrust a finger at him, threw her head back and crowed triumphantly, "Aha! I _told _you so! I said to you, the summer after Scorpius's fifth year, 'Draco, our boy is in love', and you said, 'No he isn't, otherwise he'd have told us', and I told you, I _told you _that it was either a Potter, a Weasley, or a boy! And just _look! _It's all bloody _three!" _

"In love?" Albus asked dumbly.

"Mother!"

Scorpius shrilled.

"You're in love with _ferret face's son!" _Harry, who everyone had forgotten about, thundered.

Draco snapped out of it as if someone had thrown a cold glass of ice water in his face. He stood to his feet as well, going puce. "Just WHO do you think you're bloody well calling ferret face, scarhead!"

"Pointy nosed git!" Harry shouted.

"Bespeckled freak!" Draco roared.

"Love?" Albus muttered.

"I'm going to die of shame," Scorpius murmured into his hands. "Absolutely die."

"Honestly!" The wives cried.

"QUIET!" A loud voice bellowed.

They all stopped and looked at the headmistress, Draco's wand mid-swing and Harry preparing to remove his cloak.

"Sit," she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

They sat.

"Scorpius, Albus." She smiled serenely at the pair of boys, one a bit in shock and the other tinged with red. "While this is all good and well, and I really would enjoy some Muggle popcorn right now, I can't help but wonder why it was necessary to hold this meeting with both of your parents. Could you not have sent a letter together, then met at Hogsmead?"

"Um. Well, no." Albus figited. "See-"

"Well-"

"Er." Albus paused. "I'm not sure how to explain this."

"There's more?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"I'm not sure it can get any worse," Draco moaned into the table, where his head was taking position. It was totally undignified, but he didn't seem to care. "My son. Cohorting with Potters. Please tell me, Scorpius, that you were at least the top."

There was an awkward pause, in which Scorpius turned a scarlet color and sunk lower into his seat. "Erm."

"Of course not," Draco sighed. "I can never get anything in life. Why should I get at least that?"

Harry coughed into his hand. "Atta boy, Albus."

The elder Malfoy gave him a nasty look. If _Avada Kedavras _could be cast visually...

"You know that we support you in anything you do, Scorpius," Astoria said, smoothing her husband's hair soothingly. She was completely prim again, no sign that she'd completely cast away all pureblood respectability mere minutes before. "It is a shame about having no heirs, but I'm sure you can adopt..."

Scorpius swallowed. This was the perfect opening. He opened his mouth to just say it, just get it out in the air.

"I'm-"

"I was watching Scorpius eat cream puffs and got hot and jumped him and he was pretty willing so we went all the way and it was supposed to be a one night stand, but it apparently wasn't because now Scorpius's been throwing up and other things and he thought he was dying but figured that he wasn't so we went to the nurse and begged for a test and it turns out that he's not, he's just pregnant with triplets. That's what we wanted to tell you. So yeah."

Al exhaled harshly and put his head in his hands. "Merlin. I'm so glad that's out. You can freak out for real, now."

"Pregnant," Draco and Harry choked.

"Cream puffs?" Ginny asked.

"Triplets?" Astoria said dazedly.

"Yes. Um, yeah. And yes. I know. We know. We just had to tell you, so now that we've done that we'll just be going..." Albus and Scorpius stood.

"Sit. Down." Ginny's tone could make the Dark Lord shudder.

They sat.

"Let me be the first to congratulate you boys!" The headmistress said, beaming at them. "Why, I'm sure this is the first male pregnancy I've heard of in-"

"Over one hundred fifty years," Scorpius muttered. "We know. We heard."

"Exactly!" She was undeterred by his gloomy expression. "And between a Potter and a Malfoy! Why, I never-!"

"Imagined," Albus repeated. "We know. We heard."

"And _three_ children! Well, you'll certainly have your hands full, won't you-?"

"Wait," Harry said, looking a bit pale. "Something like this has happened before? Male-male _pregnancy?_"

"Well of course, Mr. Potter." Amelia said in a jolly tone. "It is very rare and nearly unheard of, but Scorpius certainly isn't the first. It is, again, very rare though. I can't imagine how this could have come about, though, especially when they didn't do it on purpose..."

Albus cleared his throat. "That's what we're trying to figure out still, actually. I know the Room of Requirement hasn't quite been the same, since, you know." Albus faltered as Harry groaned quietly.

"The Room of bloody Requirement. Isn't it always."

Scorpius was confused, but he didn't say anything.

"Are you both quite sure that's it's not something else?" Ginny asked. Draco and Astoria appeared to be coma-like.

"Madamoiselle Pomfrey did the test three times. A little gold light hovers in front of your stomach for each baby, right?" At his parents nods, Albus continued: "Then yeah. There were three."

"How far along are you?" Harry asked quietly.

Scorpius cleared his throat nervously, looking at him. He hadn't actually expected to be addressed so soon. "Three months, two weeks and four days."

"Right." His hand went to his temple in a familiar gesture. "And have you even thought of what you're going to do?"

"I'll tell you what Scorpius is going to do," Mr. Malfoy said in a tone that sounded absolutely furious. "He will be pulled out of school, and as far away from Potters and this mess as bloody well possible."

Scorpius paled. "Father-"

"No." Draco turned to his son, his face like marble. "_No. _I told you to stay away from Potters and Weasleys. You somehow managed to get yourself _up the bloody duff _with not only one, but _both_, as your mother so kindly pointed out earlier."

"Now wait just one second-" Ginny started hotly, but Draco completely ignored her.

"You will march down to the dungeons, say goodbye to whatever-" he gestured wildly in between the two boys- "_This_ is, and prepare to be tutored in some distant country for the rest of the year."

Albus stood, his fists clenched. "I'm afraid that I can't let you do that. Those are _my_ babies too, and Scorpius doesn't really have to listen to anything you say because he's of age, so-"

He was cut off by a squeal. A blur of brunette and designer robes was all that Astoria was as she launched herself at both boys, wrapping them into a huge, rib crushing hug.

"This. Is. Amazing! Draco, darling, we're going to have grandchildren! _Grandchildren! _Babies! To love and spoil and kiss and squeeze and-"

She squeezed them again and squealed. Then she unceremoniously began dancing around the room.

Draco looked scandalized. "Astoria! Did you not hear the speech that I was just-"

"Oh, dearest, you are always _much _too dramatic. So Scorpius is gay, pregnant, and the father's a Potter. So what? Merlin knows I'm praying that the children don't inherit that hair that you love to belittle so much, but other than that, what _is _the problem?"

Draco spluttered. "You-I-_Potters_-"

"Do you know the sexes, yet, dearest?" She asked her son, petting Scorpius's stomach.

Scorpius shook his head. The Potters were staring wide eyed them, but he seemed suddenly undisturbed. "We want to keep it a surprise."

"Oh, I do love surprises. We'll just have to see, won't we? But that'll make buying baby clothes and decorating the nursery that much harder..."

"Astoria," Draco said weakly.

"Hush, dear, I'm trying to talk pastels."

And that was that.

Oh. My. Goodness. SO MANY REVIEWS! Some of them made me blush, some made me laugh, but every single one of them made me smile, especially considering this is my first mPreg fic. I just knew I _had _to put the parents reactions in.

I know some of you are wondering why Scorpius and Albus haven't been skinned, like most parents would do. That'll be explained in the next chapter, and don't worry: they haven't completely escaped yet XD I hope you guys love Astoria. I just wanted her to be an unpredictable, happy character, you know?


	7. Books and Mujufoos

Disclaimer: I think we all know who this belongs to.

* * *

They discussed the pregnancy in a-more or less-calm, civilized manner.

There had been a few flare ups, a near fist fight and plenty of sniping between the two Potters and Draco, but Astoria had remained aloof throughout it all, instead sitting with a pleased, slightly disturbing gleam in her eye and putting her opinons in occasionally.

It was agreed that Scorpius and Albus would come out as a couple in the week-before the press got wind of the true situation. That way, the wizarding would already be used to the idea of a former Death Eater's son and a Potter together.

"And hopefully," Draco grumped, "when they discover that you've-somehow-copulated, they'll think it romantic instead of a freak accident that really makes me wish I had a time turner. Or made Scorpius go to Durmstrang."

"Are you calling our grandchildren _freak accidents?" _Harry had snapped, then blanched. "Merlin, that sounds weird."

This was followed by a large discussion about sensitivity and what you could and could not call the future Potter-Malfoys. Then, Draco irritably asked why the name Potter was going to be first, which meant another small argument that finished unresolved, because it was getting a bit out of hand and Headmistress used the 'Professor' voice on the adults.

They then moved onto living arrangements. Scorpius explained the pureblood pregnancy symptoms and his slight dependence on Al. He could tell that it pleased his father, even in this situation-though the Malfoy line wasn't going to be completely pure anymore, it was, at least, pure enough for him to experience them.

His Head Boy quarters, the parents all agreed, weren't big enough to house two people, and certainly not when one was carrying an extra three. So they got extra rooms that were normally used for teachers.

"I don't like it," Ginny had said when the idea was presented. "It's like we're rewarding them for getting Scorpius up the duff."

They had begun to do this, during the meeting. Talk about the boys as if they weren't there. It irritated Al to no end, but he was glad just to be still alive and breathing. And not with his babies being shipped with Scorpius to China. So he kept his mouth shut, for the most part.

"Techinically, they didn't know it was possible," Harry said resonably. "And you know how you were when you were pregnant with Jamie and the rest. Knocking things over and such. I remember the time you just burst into tears, because you thought the house was shrinking-"

"They can get the rooms," Ginny said frostily.

Then there was Quidditch.

"If Scorpius has to quit, then Potter has to as well!" Draco insisted.

This was one of the times that Albus opened his mouth. "That's a bunch of bollocks!" he exclaimed at the same time that his parents made outraged noises.

But Draco was firm. "They are supposed to be together in everything, yes? How do you think Scorpius will feel when he's on the ground, bloated with swollen feet and an aching head while Al flaunts that he can still play?"

Albus sat back, feeling guilty. He hadn't thought of that. How was he going to do this if he didn't think about things like that?

Harry opened his mouth. Closed it. Exchanged a look with his wife, who's brow was furrowed in thought. "Well, that's actually-"

"I'll be fine," Scorpius said quietly. "Al can play."

Albus looked at the blond haired boy, who suddenly appeared very small in his chair. He knew that the Slytherin loved to fly as much as he did. It was in their blood, one of the many things that they had in common.

He wanted to hug him again. Maybe just stay like that for a while, with his arms around the smaller boy.

"No," he said instead. "That's all right-I'll quit."

Scorpius looked at him, while his parents stared in shock. "Don't. You'll just resent me for it later, along with everyone else. I've already been training the Slytherin seeker to take my place for the upcoming game and resigned myself to the situation. I've had a while; even though I didn't know what was going on, I still couldn't rise five feet in the air in the summer without being sick."

Ginny nodded grimly. "It was the same for me. I hated it, but then the children were born and then..."

The two shared a look, and Albus knew that he didn't have to worry about his mother hating the idea of Scorpius anymore. At least, not now. She'd have to think about it, process, but she was on their side.

"I-" Albus started, but Scorpius looked at his father, then the headmistress.

"He'll stay on the team," the Slytherin said in the same tone that Astoria had used earlier.

Amelia smiled gently. "Well all right, then. If you say so." She looked over there shoulders, suddenly. "And here comes Madamoiselle Pomfrey now."

At that point, the woman entered the office, her presence announced by the clacking of her sensible heels on the marble floor.

She rounded the corner, her arms full of books, a pen in her hair and her clipboard on top of the stack. Albus got up to help her with them, and they set everything on the headmistress's desk.

"Good morning, all," she said in her usual brisk tone. Even though she was nearly ten years younger than them, the young woman commanded a sense of respectability. It had all of the adults sitting up straighter in their chairs. "Ginny, Harry, wonderful to see you."

"I suppose it's not wonderful to see me," Draco muttered under his breath.

"And you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy."

Astoria hummed. Layla looked, for a moment, as if she wanted to snap her fingers in front of the woman's face or something of the like, then shook her head. "I suppose she didn't take the news well?" She asked as she began unstacking papers, old books that looked like they'd fall apart at any moment.

"Oh, no," Scorpius said. "She actually took the news rather well."

"Too well." Draco glowered at his wife, who still didn't notice. She'd faded again. "She's in her happy place."

"Ah." Layla said. "Well, good. They're going to need all the support they can get. Now, I took the liberty of going to the library and checking out some books on the phenomenon of male preganancy and some on regular magical pregnancy. Albus, Scorpius, parents, I want _all of you _set aside some reading time to go through every page of these books."

They all stared at the enormous pile. It wasn't so much the amount as the size that made it so huge.

"Dibs on the smallest book," Draco said quickly.

Harry scowled. "Damn it."

"Harry!" Ginny swatted his arm. Bravely picked up a book on the top of the pile, which was so faded you could barely see the title.

As Layla began briefing Scorpius and Albus's parents on what they'd learned the afternoon before, the boys quietly began sifting through the information that the young woman had brought them.

"It says here that I might want to eat glass?" Scorpius looked a bit sick as he read the book in a hushed voice.

"Don't worry. I'll stop you." Albus told him.

"That's if you can. It also says that anything standing between a pregnant woman and her meals are dead, basically."

"Well, you're a guy."

"Doesn't that just make it worse? I can throw a good punch."

Albus paused, considering. "If it comes to that," he finally said, "Please stay away from my face and lower areas. Those are sort of important."

Scorpius smirked. "No promises."

"That's reassuring."

"I know." Scorpius flashed a wicked grin that reminded Albus that the boy was in Slytherin. Not only in Slytherin, but ran the entire house with an iron fist. He'd once watched the blond berate seventh years while he was still in his fourth. He was the bloody Head Boy.

And Albus was made the unofficial spokesman for Gryffindor-despite how much he ran from the title. People went to him with their problems before they went to Neville, who was the head of the house.

If there were two guys that could pull this off and make it out relatively unscathed, it would be them. Hell, Albus's dad had to defeat a Dark Lord in his seventh year! This was only unplanned pregnancy! They could do this! They could-!

There was a loud, groaning sound.

"Erm," Scorpius said faintly.

And then he tipped his head down and vomited on Al's shoes.

The sick was _Evasceo'd _quickly, but the Astoria insisted that Scorpius needed some air. The rest agreed, so they left. Albus got the feeling that they just wanted to speak in private.

Al didn't mind the mess, not really. But Scorpius kept on apologizing miserably as they left out.

"My uncle runs a joke shop," Al assured him, carrying both of their books. The Gryffindor had picked a slightly large book on the last case of male pregnancy, while Scorpius had gone with a huge tome on pregnancies, symptoms, stages, and potions that could be brewed to help. "My family has babies all the time. I'm used to being sicked on. Really."

"But-"

"Think about it this way: I'm half the reason that you're puking all the time. It makes sense that you get a bit of revenge. In fact, I am your personal slave for the next seven months: your wish is my command. You can even kick me when it gets bad. Just, you know," Albus said quickly, "not in the places where I specified earlier."

The Slytherin considered, tilting his head to the side in a slightly more than adorable way. Nodded. "Fair point. Really fair point. Do remember that you said that, Albus."

"I'm going to regret that, aren't I?" Albus asked, only half joking.

"Yes. Yes you are. Now: Can we get something to eat? We skipped breakfast and I'm starving."

"Right." The dark haired boy nodded firmly. "To the kitchens."

They walked in silence, each involved in their own thoughts. Scorpious concentrated on not smacking his lips, as he still had a phantom-taste from the stomach acids.

He kept on sneaking glances at the dark haired boy that he was walking beside. Aside from the minor panic attack he'd had yesterday and blurting out their little predicament, he seemed to be taking this abnormally well.

As a matter of fact, Scorpius was too. He was pretty sure that the reality of the situation would completely land at some point, but for now, he was content to amusedly think about the discussion in the office. Now that the boys were gone the adults would surely be having more serious words.

His smirk disappeared at his father's reaction to the pregnancy.

Thank Merlin for Mother.

And then he remembered what his mom had revelaed, and he could have been sick all over again.

No. _No _thank Merlin for Mother.

'Our son is in love-'

Merlin,

he could have just died right there. Right in the prinicpal's cushy conjured chair. Albus wasn't saying anything about it-maybe he'd forgotten about Astoria's little slip?

Scorpius fervently hoped he had. Otherwise, he'd have to _AK _himself.

A rolling in his stomach had him snapping out of his thoughts.

Or not.

It was going to take some serious adjustment, getting used to thinking for three more. And they weren't even _here _yet.

God, where was his favorite little therapist when he needed him?

_Class, _Scorpius's mind helpfully supplied. Where he'd be if he wasn't meeting his and Albus's parents because of...

And it went right back to the main problem, didn't it?

He was brought out of his thoughts by a faint touch on his elbow. Even through the cloth of his robes-which he was still wearing, despite the fact that he'd been sweating bullets back in the office: the sight of his stomach might have straight killed his father-he could feel a surge of magic, going straight through his body to his stomach. It was a very pleasant feeling.

The Slytherin belatedly realized that he'd been about to run straight into the fruit portrait. Giving the Gryffindor a faintly thankful glance, he eagerly reached forward and tickled the pear. _Merlin, _but he was hungry...

The portrait slid to the side, revealing Hogwarts' kitchens. Without another glance at the Gryffindor by his side, Scorpius authoritatively tilted his chin up as he looked at the bustling house elves preparing for lunch.

As he prepared to deliever his great, awe-inspiring orders that would have the creatures running to get him what he wanted, a smell hit his nose.

It was...it was...

Sweet Merlin.

Wide, gray eyes searched for that _heavenly _smell, heedless of the corncerned and slightly scared looks that he was drawing.

"Er, Scorpius..."

There.

Like a honing device, the Slytherin's eyes locked on a wide eyed, tiny house elf clothed in a bright blue tea cosy with the Hogwarts insigna on it, carrying a tray of what appeared to be purple, misshapen gingerbread men. Made out of meat. With mysterious green globs for buttons and white, mayonaise-looking smiles. The other elves parted for him like he was the Dark Lord in the middle of Diagon Alley-_with _the horrified looks.

There was no distinctive odor around them, but Scorpius swore that he could smell something that him him like a siren's call. He took one, dazed step forward.

"You," he said loudly, barely able to talk with the saliva filling his mouth. "With the big eyes and the perrywinkle tea cozy."

The elf froze in place. And then he whirled around, trembling like one of the firsties when they pissed Zabini off. The tray rattled in his tiny hands and his eyes were wider than bludgers.

"I's didn't make anything illegal this time, sirs." He whimpered in a high pitched, shaky voice. "Swear it on my life. Mimzy lies about the student that grew tails-"

"Never mind that," Scorpius said, a glazed look in his eyes. "Bring that tray here."

The little elf brightened instantly, seeing the look. He knew hunger when he saw it. Scurrying over and ignoring the sneers of the other elves, he skidded to a stop in front of the blonde and held the tray high.

Scorpius did not hesitate. A hand swooped down to pick up one of the finger sized things and shove it-

Whack!

The piece of meat flew to the ground.

Albus seemed as shocked as Scorpius. They stared at each other, mouths opened, before the Malfoy's eyes narrowed to silver slits. His fists clenched at his sides.

"Albus Potter," he hissed in a way that put snakes to shame. "Did we _not, _just five minutes ago, have a conversation where it was clear that you would _not get between me and my food?"_

The Gryffindor swallowed, hard, then pointed a shaking, accusing finger at the innocent-looking house elf. "That's different! That's-that's _Kyser. _As in, the elf that poisoned that kid in Hufflepuff. Remember him? The nice one who'd taken a sample of his food and ended up in the infirmary for two weeks with purple and yellow fur?"

"Master Albus be right!" Rissy proclaimed, shoving her way through the house elves agressively. "Master Addict be sick in the head to eat such _nasty things_-"

Kyser gasped, looking deeply scandalized. Wide eyes latched onto the house elf, who stood a good three inches over the tinier one. "Rissy!"

"Is true!" The elf affirmed vehemently.

"Potter." Scorpius's voice was dangerously low. "Did your elf just call me 'sick in the head'?"

"Just wait a minute, please," Scorpius said. Clearing his throat and plastering a smile onto his face, he went on a knee in front of the tinier elf. "Kyser," he said pleasantly, "Just what is in that?"

The elf blinked innocently. "My Mujufoos?"

There was a long pause. "Yes."

"Well," Kyser's eyes visibly began to shine as he recited, "Pork of pig, pepper, sugar, salt, horse radish, pumpkin spice, radishes and a _little bit _of Munjune blood." Well, that explained the purplish color.

"And the green stuff?" Albus asked warily. With Kyser's list, Scorpius had only seemed to grow more eager.

"Wasabi!" The elf cried in a delighted voice.

"See, Potter? You worry far too much."

And with a happy smirk, Scorpius took one of the grotesque things from the tray and happily munched into it.

Rissy threw her long eared head back and wailed.

After convincing Rissy that Master Addict was not, in fact, going to die of food poisoning and extracting a promise from Kyser that he'd make more if they asked (the elf had tearfully agreed, ecstatic that someone actually wanted to stomach one of his experiments), they left, Albus with a couple of sandwiches that Rissy had slapped together and Scorpius happily munching his...Muju-whatever.

Albus, unable to quite stifle his curiousity and natural Gryffindor bravery, had begged a corner of it off of the possesive blond.

Never again,

the dark haired boy vowed, his stomach rolling as he remembered the taste. It was like eating chewy, slightly bacon-tasting fire. How the blond could stand the heat, he did not know.

Along with Kyser's Mujus, Scorpius had also eaten two hamburgers with pepper-speckled strawberry ice cream (another apparent favorite-Albus had barely been able to look at him), two pickled quail eggs and a large glass of normal Coke.

And yet, he was still eating.

Albus dimly wondered, as they walked back to the Headmistress's office, who would win in an eating contest between the Slytherin and his Uncle Ron.

Now there was something to ponder.

"Albus?" The blond next to him asked sweetly. The Gryffindor should have taken that as warning-there was _nothing _sweet about Scorpius Malfoy. Unless he looked small or was sleeping, of course.

The Gryffindor smiled naively, turning to look at the boy beside him.

A sharp, just shy of painful, spark hit his bum. He yelped loudly, jumping about a mile in the air before turning to glare at the smirking Slytherin. "What the _hell-" _

"You will _never _smack my hand again. Clear?"

The young Potter could only rub his seriously stinging bum and watch as the Slytherin haughtily continued on his way, humming slightly.

Emerald eyes narrowed.

_Oh, it's on._

* * *

Uh oh! *Grins evilly* Albus is upset! Any guesses as to why? And the next chapter they meet up with their parents again, along with other surprises...


End file.
